Feminism is the radical notion that women are people said someone famous. That sums up feminism better than any long winded definitio...

Friday, 23 May 2014


The little pieces of you
I gather
like shards of glass
which chafes my skin.
Paste them with the glue
of my tears.
Scraped off the walls of my day.

From the billowing sheets of night,
I pull out the strands
with smells of you
which I try to deny;
Weave in some of mine.

The scents of your body on my tongue
Like the wine of your praises
I'd drunk.

I scrimp and scrounge,
Scream out my lungs
But my voice bounces back
and my skin is burnt.

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